Post It
by A Crazy Elephant
Summary: While House struggles to regain those last final moments before the bus crash that could save Amber, Fate has all ready written out its little yellow post-it. Rated for language.


**Title: **Post-It

**Author: **A Crazy Elephant

**Summary:** While House struggles to regain those last final moments before the bus crash that could save Amber, Fate has all ready written out its little yellow post-it.

**Category:** General

**Disclaimer:** Alas, it is not mine. *sniffle*

**Author's Notes:** Yeah, so this is a burst of inspiration that came to me after watching the season finale a la DVD. I can help myself; yet another Dead Like Me crossover. Damn you Showtime! You don't need to know DLM to get this one; just that the idea is that when one dies their soul is released by a reaper and that reapers receive their marks on post-its. I'm not sure of Amber's floor or exact time of death, so I made them up. = ) Understand I'm going for a distant, bleaker, 'everyone dies' sort of feel. Reviews are loved. Happy reading!

- - -

"You've got yourself about the easiest damn job in the whole bloody world, here Billy Boy." Elizabeth snorted into her espresso. "Not fuckin' fair,"

"Life isn't fair, Lizza, why should death be?" William chuckled, patting the top of her head, reassuringly.

"You'd think the universe could give us something?" Elizabeth shook her head. "You know, besides these little bastards." She sat up in her wobbly metal chair, reaching into an inside pocket of her suit jacket for a small slightly crumpled square of yellow paper.

"I knew you didn't come out here to just to see my bright smiling face. Let's see it." William rapped on the top of the plastic cafeteria table before his companion.

"Charlie said to tell you good morning. And he expects you back at Denny's for lunch after you finish off you shift and pop the soul. We're having Kelly's deathday luncheon; I made the cake. Make sure to pick her up a card or Charlie'll have you payin', not that it would be any great strain on your bank account, Doctor Six Figure." Elizabeth continued, holding out the post-it note absently. They sat along the wall of the hospital cafeteria at one of the smaller square tables, Elizabeth in her gray business suit and William in his lab coat and scrubs. They weren't a particularly interesting or odd pair; she wasn't exactly a beauty- pale freckled face, round green eyes, limp blond hair -, nor was he exceptionally handsome- shaggy brown curls, thin, tanned face, dark eyes. They weren't beastly, they weren't intriguing, they weren't outstanding; they just were.

"Do they even have deathday cards?" William asked, taking the post-it casually. Elizabeth snorted.

"No, damned inconsiderate of Hallmark." Elizabeth shook her head. "Cal bought a blank Halloween one and Charlie made his own."

"What did you get her?" William continued, fidgeting with the post-it.

"Birthday card. Crossed out 'birth' with a Sharpie."

"That's cruel, Miss Lizzie." William chuckled.

"Why? I've all ready agreed to pay the extra rent for the two-bedroom place downtown. _And_ Charlie and I are getting her a bedroom set of her very own so she won't have to sleep on the air mattress with Sammy anymore. What more could she want?" She snorted indigently.

"What a generous gift; not having to sleep with that evil old beast you call a dog." William shook his head. "You are quite a good roommate aren't you?"

"Damn straight." She said, finishing off the last of her espresso. "All right, Billy, I've got a motion to file downtown; you've got places to be and people to kill."

"I suppose so." William waved weakly as Elizabeth rose and shrugged on her jacket. "See you at lunch Lizza-bee." She kissed his temple and he snorted into his tea.

"Be good, Billy-Nilly, go bring doom and destruction to some poor soul and don't forget that card; I don't want to listen to Charlie nag all afternoon." She patted his head, collected her attaché case and vanished into the morning coffee bustle of the cafeteria. William sighed and studied his post-it. He did _not_ want to stick around for the last of his shift, he did not want to make excuses to see a patient out of his department to pull their soul and what in hell was he going to do about that damn card? Not like Kelly would be offended or anything. Work, work, work. He crumpled the post-it and polished off the last of his tea. He'd pop the soul first then think of a way to weasel out of the last of his ER graveyard rotation.

On his way back out, William tossed the paper cup and the post-it into the waste bin and sulked his way upstairs. Among the burnt bagel crusts and half-finished coffee cups, a smudged name was legible on the small square of yellow:

_A. Volakis_

_Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital_

_ICU_

_E.T.D. 10:37 AM_


End file.
